that, when his head was upon London-bridge, Margaret would be rowed beneath it, and, nothing horrified at the sight, say aloud, That head has

layde many a time in my lappe; would to God, would to God, it would fall into my lappe as I passe under now,' and the head did so fall, and she carried it in her lappe' until she placed it in her husband's, son Roper's' vault, at Canterbury.

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The King took possession of these fair grounds at Chelsea, and all the Chancellor's other property, namely, Dunkington, Trenkford, and Benley Park, in Oxfordshire, allowing the widow he had made, twenty pounds per

with an iron grating before it. A drawing was made, which was engraved in the Gentleman's Magazine of May, 1837, which we have copied in our initial letter; Summerly, in his Handbook to Canterbury, says,- in the print there, however, the opening in the leaden box enclosing the head is made oval, whereas it should be in the form of a triangle.' We have therefore so corrected our copy.

year for her life, and indulging his petty tyranny still more by imprisoning Sir Thomas's daughter Margaret, both because she kept her father's head for a relic, and that she meant to set her father's works in print.'

We were calling to mind more minute particulars of the charities and good deeds of this great man, when, standing at the moment opposite a grave where some loving hand had planted two standard rose-trees, we suddenly heard a chant of children's voices, the infant scholars singing their little hymn-the tune, too, was a well-known and popular melody, and very sweet, yet sad of sound—it was just such music as, for its simplicity, would have been welcome to the mighty dead; and, as we entered among the little songsters, the past faded away, and we found ourselves speculating on the hopeful present.

ESHER-THE RESIDENCE OF JANE PORTER.

HE frequent observation of foreigners is, that in England we have few celebrated women.' Perhaps they mean that we have few who are notorious;' but let us admit that in either case they are right; and may we not express our belief in its being better for women and for the community that such is the case. Celebrity' rarely adds to the happiness of a woman, and almost as rarely increases her usefulness. The time and attention required to attain 'celebrity,' must, except under very peculiar circumstances, interfere

with the faithful discharge of those feminine duties upon which the well-doing of society depends, and which shed so pure a halo around our English homes. Within these homes' our heroes-statesmenphilosophers-men of letters-men of genius-receive their first impressions, and the impetus to a faithful discharge of their after callings as Christian subjects of the State.

There are few of such men who do not trace back their resolution, their patriotism, their wisdom, their learning the nourishment of all their higher aspirations-to a wise, hopeful, loving-hearted and faith-inspired Mother; one who believed in a son's destiny to be great; it may be, impelled to such belief rather by instinct than by reason; who cherished (we can find no better term) the Hero-feeling' of devotion to what was right, though it might have been unworldly; and whose deep heart welled up perpetual love and patience, towards the overboiling faults and frequent

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stumblings of a hot youth, which she felt would mellow into a fruitful manhood.

The strength and glory of England are in the keeping of the wives and mothers of its men; and when we are questioned touching our celebrated women,' we may in general terms refer to those who have watched over, moulded, and inspired our celebrated' men.

Happy is the country where the laws of God and Nature are held in reverence-where each sex fulfils its peculiar duties, and renders its sphere a sanctuary! and surely such harmony is blessed by the Almighty -for while other nations writhe in anarchy and poverty, our own spreads wide her arms to receive all who seek protection or need repose.

But if we have few celebrated' women, few, who impelled either by circumstances or the irrepressible restlessness of genius, go forth amid the pitfalls of publicity, and battle with the world, either as poets-or dramatists-or moralists-or mere tale-tellers in simple prose-or, more dangerous still, 'hold the mirror up to nature' on the stage that mimics life-if we have but few, we have, and have had some, of whom we are justly proud; women of such well-balanced minds, that toil they ever so laboriously in their public and perilous paths, their domestic and social duties have been fulfilled with as diligent and faithful love as though the world had never been purified and enriched by the treasures of their feminine wisdom; yet this does not shake our belief, that, despite the spotless and well-earned reputations they enjoyed, the homage they received (and it has its charms), and even the blessed consciousness of having contributed to the healthful recreation, the improved morality, the diffusion of the best sort of knowledge-the woman would have been happier had she continued enshrined in the privacy of domestic love and domestic duty. She may not think this at the commencement of her career; and at its termination, if she has lived sufficiently long to have descended, even gracefully, from her pedestal, she may often recal the homage of the past to make up for its lack in the present. But so perfectly is woman constituted for the cares, the affections, the duties-the blessed duties of unpublic life-that if she gave nature way it will whisper to her a text that 'celebrity never added to the happiness of a true woman.' She must look for her happiness to HOME. We would have

young women ponder over this, and watch carefully, ere the veil is lifted, and the hard cruel eye of public criticism fixed upon them. No profession is pastime; still less so now than ever, when so many people are 'clever,' though so few are great. We would pray those especially who direct their thoughts to literature, to think of what they have to say, and why they wish to say it; and above all, to weigh what they may expect from a capricious public, against the blessed shelter and pure harmonies of private life.*

But we have had some-and still have some-'celebrated' women of whom we have said we may be justly proud.' We have done pilgrimage to the shrine of Lady Rachel Russell, who was so thoroughly domestic ' that the Corinthian beauty of her character would never have been matter of history, but for the wickedness of a bad king. We have recorded the hours spent with Hannah More; the happy days passed with, and the years invigorated by, the advice and influence of Maria Edgeworth. We might recal the stern and faithful puritanism of Maria Jane Jewsbury; and the Old World devotion of the true and high-souled daughter of Israel -Grace Aguilar. The mellow tones of Felicia Hemans' poetry lingers still among all who appreciate the holy sympathies of religion and virtue. We could dwell long and profitably on the enduring patience and life-longlabour of Barbara Hofland, and steep a diamond in tears to record the memories of L. E. L. We could,-alas, alas!—barely five-and-twenty

In support of this opinion, which we know is opposed to the popular feeling of many in the present day, we venture to quote what Miss Porter herself repeats, as said to her by Madame de Staël-'She frequently praised my revered mother for the retired manner in which she maintained her little domestic establishment, yielding her daughters to society but not to the world.' We pray those we love, to mark the delicate and most true distinc tion, between 'society' and the world.' 'I was set on a stage,' continues De Staël, 'I was set on a stage, at a child's age, to be listened to as a wit and worshipped for my premature judgment. I drank adulation as my soul's nourishment, and I cannot now live without its poison; it has been my bane, never an aliment. My heart ever sighed for happiness, and I ever lost it, when I thought it approaching my grasp. I was admired, made an idol, but never beloved. I do not accuse my parents for having made this mistake, but I have not repeated it in my Albertine' (her daughter). She shall not

"Seck for love, and fill her arms with bays."

I bring her up in the best society, yet in the shade.'